


Step up

by Yulkka



Series: Stand clear of the closing doors [2]
Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Angst, Drama & Romance, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:33:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22477966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yulkka/pseuds/Yulkka
Summary: The continuatoin of "Stand clrear of the closing doors, the next station is"
Relationships: Clarke Griffin & Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Series: Stand clear of the closing doors [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1617223
Comments: 5
Kudos: 37





	Step up

**Author's Note:**

> Lexa and Clarke deserve better, right?  
> So, here you go :) A small continuation with a happy end.
> 
> If you haven't read the first part yet, I recommend to read it to understand this one better.
> 
> A small reminder: English is not my first language. Sorry for the mistakes!

Step up ...  
One more…  
Again...

Legs are stepping from one ladder rung to the next, lifting Lexa up. A 70-meter-high view overlooks dark green forests and dreary brown fields stretching in the distance. The smell of autumn sun hangs in the air, and shreds of clouds drop gray shadows on the ground. Hands are already tired, but there are several steps left to the desired goal, she has to keep going. 

Here is the long-awaited last ledge. Aching arms and legs seem nothing compared to the pounding heart beating already somewhere in the throat. There is a metallic taste of insanity in her mouth that made her climb here.

Height has always been the greatest fear for Lexa. Until recently. Now she needs something to help her get her life back. Something like a defibrillator for a torn heart.

She steps on a narrow wooden board right over the abyss. People below look like small ants, but now she doesn't care about them. For a split second, Lexa has the feeling she desired so much. She feels nothing but her heart drumming in the ears.

Three…

Two…

She sees her face. Clarke breaks into her mind for a moment.

One…

Jump.

Streams of the air cut into the skin, all organs flip inside, and Lexa doesn’t think about anything other than the sensations the flight brings her. The survival instinct takes over and she tries to move her legs as if running in the air, hoping to catch something that could help her. This happens involuntarily. A short cry escapes her chest, which is more like the last cry of a dying beast.

Lexa closes her eyes and waits for the pain that will shred her body in a few milliseconds.  
Instead, she feels the elastic harnesses embracing her from all sides stretch to their limits, stopping the fall, and then leaping back up for a short second. In the end, Lexa steps on the ground. She tries to make her trembling legs move, heading shocked towards a group of people gathered near the transmission tower. They are definitely as crazy as she is.

Lexa has always been a prudent person, even a bit boring. She preferred not to do stupid things and play it safe in any situation. Now, however, she didn’t care about the risk. All she wanted was to stop thinking at least for a short time. Completely. And she achieved her goal.  
Her gaze darts up to where she stood a couple of minutes ago and where the instructors are now preparing the equipment for the next poore one. From below, this height doesn’t seem so scary.

Someone might think that was stupid?  
Yes.

Someone would say she shouldn’t have done this?  
Maybe she shouldn’t.

Someone would say that soul sufferings could be averted in other ways?  
They could be.

But Lexa did what she did, and will not regret it.

People often say that you need to look your fear in the eyes to stop being afraid. But she still doubts if the statement is true.

\---

Her memories are haunting her day after day. In the morning, when she wakes up, the image of Clarke appears in her mind. During the day, when working or walking Lexa sees her face. Late in the evening, when she is already lying in bed, she is tossing and turning from the thoughts. 5 months so by like this. Every. Fucking. Day.

Lexa was working when she saw a message from Clarke, two days after she had given her that confession letter.

Lexa didn’t open the message immediately. She was sure that there would hardly be anything good and that she wouldn’t be able to control herself not to sob in front of everyone in the office. That was definitely unnecessary. That’s why she waited till the evening, came home, drank a glass of whiskey in one gulp, and only after that her trembling fingers opened the message she had not read yet.

 **Clarke:** I was long thinking about what to answer. Everything I can offer is friendship.

14 words, 2 sentences. Straight and dry. Lexa was staring at the glowing screen with glassy eyes, her chest aching as if pierced with something unbearably sharp.

She wasn’t waiting for reciprocal feelings. She didn’t ask for them. She wouldn’t hope that Clarke could feel something towards her. She wasn’t expecting an answer, no. In her letter, Lexa even said goodbye to her sincerely wishing to be happy. She understood that the words flickering on the screen weren’t fully reflecting what Clarke really felt, but her own guilt made Lexa imagine the blonde girl with a severe look spitting this phrase into her face.

It would have been better, if she hadn’t written anything. It would have been better, if she had let her stupid feelings die inside and hadn’t ruined the friendship with the person she loved. She still loves.

She felt like she was holding business negotiations where her feelings were the object of the deal, so meaningless and useless that no one wanted to accept them even as a gift.

The only thing Lexa could write in response was:

 **Lexa:** I don’t need more than this. But I’ll keep my promise and won’t bother you ever again.

Clarke didn’t reply.

It was difficult for Lexa to accept the fact that she was different, even before she confessed. But after this short message, things got worse. A strong sense of inferiority and abnormality became her constant companion for the next several months. The only outlet was her younger sister Madi. Lexa honestly told her the whole story. Did Madi find her disgusting after that? Absolutely not. But she was scared. She was afraid for Lexa’s future in a cruel society that severely punishes those who are different from the majority. But her sister was supportive, she was comforting her every night Lexa called from another city sobbing into the phone.

\---

Paranoid guilt slowly dulled and Lexa could live on. Not without daily image of Clarke appearing in her head of course. After the jump, she switched her attention to the guitar. Day after day, Lexa rubbed her fingertips against hard metal strings. The skin was red and pulsed from pain, producing buzzing sounds from the instrument. The left wrist was also aching from everyday tension, but Lexa didn’t care. She had to prove herself that she could make this.

And she did. Slowly, a little awkwardly, but she learned. Her play was not perfect, but Lexa didn’t pretend to become a famous musician anyway. She came home from work, picked up a shiny black guitar which was a great view itself and played until corns formed on her fingertips.

Lexa always had stage fright. Her voice wasn’t something outstanding, so she sang all alone in her apartment, but did it with pleasure. And she didn’t care what the neighbors thought about it (if they heard her at all).

When Lexa was broken, she didn’t want to hear her own voice, nor had she a single wish to look at her reflection in the mirror. Stupid thoughts of her being unlovable filled her head.

Only when she was able to produce some simple melodies, something flourished inside.

The first song she learned to play was Break My Heart Again - FINNEAS. Did she want to finish herself off and make it even worse? Probably not, some of the words were simply close to her.  
Lexa desires to see Clarke again so much that she is ready to let her heart break again. And even realizing that the blonde girl is neither in the country nor in the city, she is still looking for familiar features in every face she meets.

Her play is inept, she is not always hitting the right note, but doesn’t give up anyway.

The room is filled with clumsy sounds spreading in the form of waves which reflect from the walls and two paintings hanging on them.

Lexa painted one at the end of spring when her feelings for Clarke were full of hope and fresh air. It depicted dawn in the mountains. Fog was spreading down the valley, and the moon, which had not yet disappeared, hung in the brightening sky. A green hill with blue flowers, scattered all over it, came to the foreground. This painting was an anticipation of the beginning of something new. It reflected Lexa’s hope.

She painted the second one after the jump. The hot Tuscan air pictured on it seemed to burn the lungs. Unlike the first fresh painting, this one was a mixture of emotions. Here and there on the canvas were visible bright orange strokes of the sunset breaking into mind like fire flames. The view was beautiful, but Lexa literally went crazy when the brush touched the canvas. She strove to make all her feelings spill out and finally leave her empty.

\---

Lexa was having trouble sleeping. She imagined Clarke reading the letter in her room, how it shocked her, how the girl stared at the lines trying to understand Lexa. Did she throw the letter away, or did she put it in the farthest corner of the room so that she couldn’t see it? Did she feel pity for the person who fell in love with her and didn’t find a place in her heart? Or was it just a cold indifference? Or maybe a fear?

No matter how much Lexa wanted to receive the answers to all her questions, she understood that this was practically impossible. But a glimmer of hope still didn’t fade away completely. It was constantly waning and flaring up again.

On the New Year's Eve, after the countdown and 5 months after their last interaction, hope explodes in Lexa’s chest like fireworks now sparkling in the sky. And she can’t stand it anymore.

 **Lexa:** Happy New Year!

Clarke is the first person Lexa congratulates.  
The first message in almost half a year. She lays the phone down on the table, afraid to even hope for an answer. A sudden vibration pulls Lexa out of her thoughts.

Impossible…

 **Clarke:** Happy New Year, Lexa! How are you doing?

She looks at the message, not knowing what to answer. She will write something stupid again.

 **Lexa:** I’m fine, thank you. How is your studying?!

This time she has to wait a little longer for an answer, but the very fact that Clarke has replied already makes her heart jump wildly in her chest.

 **Clarke:** Oh, that's a long story! I can write you about it a little later. Or maybe we could meet? I’m now visiting my parents for the holidays :)

Have you ever heard of a preinfarction syndrome? Lexa is sure she feels it now. Does Clarke really want to see her? After almost six months of silence? Is it that simple? One had only to initiate a conversation?  
She is sitting, silently staring at the glowing screen for several minutes before she realizes that she still hasn’t answered.

 **Lexa:** That would be great :)

\---

The day has come. Today she will see the one who occupies her thoughts every day, again.  
Lexa slowly walks towards the agreed place, leaving the house an hour earlier than necessary, as always. This time, she came out early also because she couldn’t calmly sit at home anymore. She is listening to the tires of passing cars, gliding on wet asphalt. Winter evening air is surprisingly warm and damp this year, it fills her lungs. By this time, the sky has already darkened, and the streets are lit by warm orange lights.

Lexa enters a quiet, cozy street surrounded by old houses and stops at a red light. She looks up at the opposite side of the road and cannot believe her eyes.

_Clarke._

She’s standing there and staring back at Lexa. The blonde girl hesitantly raises her hand in greeting.  
If there were no cars scurrying back and forth along the street, Lexa would immediately rush to the other side.  
The traffic light counts down the seconds, and it seems like Lexa is standing at the starting line right before the sprint.

Four…  
Three…  
Two…  
One.

But she’s not running, no. Lexa tries to hold back the bunch of emotions inside and calmly heads towards Clarke standing there frozen. Panic rolls over her, she’s afraid that Clarke wouldn’t want to hug her. But all doubts fade away when her friend is the first one who comes closer and wraps her in a tight embrace.

“Hi”, Clarke whispers softly, still not letting Lexa out of her hands.

The girls step back from each other, and Lexa barely mutters,  
“Hi. I'm ... glad to see you”, a little longer, and she will burst into tears.

“You came too early, as always”, Clarke smiles brightly, lightly nudging the other girl.

“I always do, you know that... Wait, why are you ...?” she awkwardly shifts from one foot to the other, not knowing what to do with her hands. That’s really strange, Clarke was almost always late for their meetings.

“Um ... I ... remember about your habit, and I didn’t want to make you wait”, after these words, a wide, goofy smile blossoms on Lexa's face.

“Thank you”, comfortable warmth is spilling all over her from the mere thought that Clarke cares about her.

“Oh, come on, let's go get warm”, wow, how Lexa missed this laugh.

They enter a warm coffee shop filled with the aroma of the hot drink. The atmosphere around them is as if there was neither the letter nor these painful months. The girls are laughing and talking about what happened to them during this time. Lexa, of course, is silent about what she had to go through, she doesn’t want to spoil the wonderful mood. And they never bring it up.

Clarke somehow awkwardly fidgets in her chair and hands something to Lexa.

“I have something for you”, she says and looks at the girl across the table, studying her reaction.

Lexa holds a small square chocolate bar in her hand, a very similar the one she gave to Clarke with the letter.

“Thank you ... I ... don’t ... I don’t have anything for you”, Lexa couldn’t put the words into the sentences because of her surprise and guilt that she hadn’t even thought about a present for the holidays. “I have an idea, let me at least pay for the coffee today.”

“Lex, calm down, it's okay, there’s no need...” Clarke seemed to be as tensed as Lexa.

But the girl silently shakes her head and accompanied by a surprised look of her friend goes to the bar to pay the bill, until the blonde could stop her. After she returns, Lexa doesn’t sit down, but grabs her backpack hanging on the chair and points towards the door.

“Would you like to walk a little?”

“You never change, you know?” Clark laughs again.

Lexa often bought her friend a meal, a drink, or an ice-cream, she even insisted on it. The girl always did it silently as if it was something so natural that it wasn’t worth mentioning at all. And Clarke always tried to resist, but surrendered under the obstinate gaze.

It is now noticeably quieter outside. There are much less cars, and small groups of students discussing something loudly are already heading to their dorms. They are walking for five or so minutes in a comfortable silence.  
Clarke is the one who breaks it.

“I'm sorry... I actually have to go, I'm leaving early in the morning. But I will be back in a month. And maybe… you would like to meet again?” she is looking at her feet without turning her head.

“Yes!” Lexa blurts out without thinking. But she doesn’t regret her wild reaction, because Clarke laughs again.

“Well... then I'll write you. Or you can write me”, she says calming down a little. “And ... thanks for today.”

They are standing at the crossroad where their eyes met a few hours ago. Lexa nods slightly and leans forward to hug her friend. She hears one more quiet “thank you” whispered into her ear. Clarke pulls away and starts to move away, until she finally disappears around the corner. Lexa continues standing rooted to the spot, staring at the wall.

Everything she felt for the blonde girl for months bursts into her soul like a tsunami wave. But this time, there’s a lot more hope. It is no longer despair, no. It is a joyful anticipation to meet Clarke once more and the opportunity to get her friend back.

Stop being a coward! You couldn’t make it worse anyway.

 **Lexa:** I was afraid to say it out loud, but I really missed you as a friend.

 _“Not only as a friend obviously”_ , she thinks.

 **Clarke:** I missed you, too :)

\---  
The month was so long and slow for Lexa. She tried to occupy herself with something in all possible ways only not to count down the hours and minutes to see Clarke again. Lexa went over all possible what-ifs in their new communication a thousand times in her mind and came up with an impassioned speech, even if she knew that everything would definitely go wrong.

This time, Lexa has managed to drag Clarke to an ice rink. And this time, the blonde girl does step on the slippery surface clutching at the boards in panic. Legs are awkwardly trembling.

“Oh hell, no, no, no! I want back”, Clarke is standing, trying not to move.

Lexa abruptly stops in front of her, dousing the girl with a wave of ice dust caused by her skates blades, and smiles softly.

“Come on, you can do it”, she gives Clarke a hand. “Hold on to me, bend your knees a little and lean forward... Yep, like this. If you suddenly lose balance, better fall sideways and lean forward. Falling backwards is rather dangerous. But I promise I’ll be there for you.”

Clarke throws her head up and stares at Lexa with sparkling eyes.

“I hope so…”

“Um ... Yeah... Now try to transfer your weight on one foot and let the edge of the blade bite into the ice.”

Clarke leans forward, standing on one foot, but completely forgetting about the second one. She loses her balance and falls screeching literally into Lexa’s arms. The girl is not ready for such an outcome and jerks forward, grabbing Clarke at her waist and falling backwards herself.

Thud!

The air is knocked out of her lungs, and her view is covered with black fog.

“God, Lexa, I'm sorry!” she hears somewhere in front of her after a couple of seconds of silence.

The fog is starting to disappear, but Clarke tries to get from Lexa who hasn’t recovered from the fall yet and accidentally presses her knee onto the girl’s one. Lexa moans loudly from pain, closing her eyes.

“Damn, Lex, I didn’t want to...” Lexa is clutching at her knee when she suddenly feels two warm palms on her cheeks and hesitantly opens her eyes. “Come on, I'll help you sit up.”

Clarke gently lifts her by her shoulders, trying not to hurt more, and crawls towards the ice board.

“How are you?” Lexa looks into blue eyes, which are expressing so much sympathy and regret, that she forgets about the pain.

“It’s okay ... I’m ... fine”, she tries with all her might not to pay attention to the sharp pain in her knee.

“Wait here, I'll ask someone to help.”

“Don’t...” Lexa doesn’t have a chance to finish, as Clarke has already grabbed onto the board, got on her feet and is now heading towards the exit, slipping every now and then.

She comes back a couple of minutes later with an instructor holding her arm. He glides up to half-sitting Lexa and offers his help, while Clarke grabs onto the railing again. The man lifts the injured girl by her waist, until she stands, leaning on one leg.

“But ...” Lexa protests, watching Clarke trying to keep her balance.

“Oh, no... everything's fine, I'll get there by myself. Somehow. Crawling”, she shrugs off.

When Lexa sits on the benches, she watches how Clarke is trying to reach her for another five minutes.  
When she does, she stands on all fours in front of the girl sitting on the bench.

“Solid ground”, she whines and rises.

“Clarke, I'm sorry I shouldn't have dragged you to the rink. Are you okay?”

Clarke stares at her in surprise, arching an eyebrow.

“I think I’m the one who should ask you this question”, she crouches in front of her. “How is your leg? Can you walk?”

“Yes, of course”, Lexa nods confidently.

She gets up and tries carefully to transfer her weight to the hurt leg, but then hisses from the sharp pain that pierces her knee. Clark jumps up, supporting the girl by her waist.

“Yeah, of course ...” she murmurs sarcastically and throws Lexa's hand around her neck. “Come on, little cripple, let’s get you a taxi.”

“Hey! You are the one who crippled me!” she points.

“You are the one who brought me here!”

“Touché”, Lexa smiles softly.

\---

The girls stagger into Lexa's apartment, and Clarke carefully helps her sit down on the sofa. A curious look falls on the black case lying there.

“Is this what I think it is?” she points at the object, to which Lexa only nods briefly, trying to avoid the eye contact. “So... you made it?” Clarke opens up the cover and stares at the musical instrument inside.

But Lexa still just nods silently, unable to utter a word. The fingertips go through the metal strings, producing a quiet buzz. Without receiving an answer, Clarke looks up at the bewildered girl, but paintings on the wall draw her attention. She has already seen one of them. Lexa showed her a photograph in spring. It is so peaceful, unlike the other one, which is burning with bright colors.

“Lex, it’s so beautiful... It’s so ... anxious. Why so…?”

“Thanks”, Lexa stands up abruptly and limps towards the kitchen. “Tea?”

She stands in front of the table leaning on the top with both hands, clenching her fists. Lexa tries her best not to cry. Suddenly a soft warm hand touches her back, and the girl shivers slightly.

“I'm sorry I hurt you”, Clarke whispers quietly.

“It's okay. I shouldn't have dragged you to the ice rink”, Lexa smiles bitterly, not turning around.  
Silence fills the room.

“I was scared”, Clarke mutters. “I don’t…”

“Clarke, please. I’m the one to ask you for forgiveness. I’m not taking my words back, but I swear I didn’t want to offend or somehow insult you with that letter…” Lexa can no longer restrain muffled sobs. “And I understand that this ...” she turns around and points her hand between them without lifting her eyes from the floor, “... is impossible. I didn’t expect anything in return, because, maybe I’m a little different from the others, but certainly not stupid” , tears are streaming down her cheeks. “So please, forgive me...”

The next thing she feels is a comfortable warmth spreading through her body. Clarks holds her so tightly that the air seems to stop reaching her lungs.

“It's not impossible”, Clarke whispers, making Lexa freeze. “You have no idea how wonderful you are, right?” she pulls back a little, covering the face in front of her with her palms. “You're so brave, unlike me. And what I did to you is terrible…” now tears are rolling down her cheeks, too. “I'm so sorry... Please let me fix this. Let me fix us. I like you, Lexa. And I'm still afraid, but I want to try…” Clarke slowly wipes teardrops from Lexa’s face. “But if you want me to leave you alone, I will.”

Confusion, pain, hope, love merge together inside Lexa staring into blue eyes and trying to find confirmation of her words.  
And she finds.  
She is ready to let her heart break again, if it’s meant to be.

Clarke is waiting for an answer, her eyes are closed in fear. She receives one, feeling soft lips barely touching hers. The kiss is so fleeting, but so tender. She doesn't open her eyes when Lexa pulls away. Clarke is afraid it could have been a hallucination.

“Stay…” a soft whisper makes her look at the green-eyed girl.

And Clarke wraps her in a tight embrace again, wishing to erase all the pain from Lexa’s heart.

“Thank you for being brave”, she smiles sheepishly.

“Thank you for coming back…”


End file.
